


Childish

by Ajju



Category: MapleStory
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-06 22:09:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20514290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ajju/pseuds/Ajju
Summary: TW: blood, death





	Childish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OrigamiRiver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrigamiRiver/gifts).

> TW: blood, death

Albert opened his eyes for a bit before leaving them closed. He felt feeble; absolutely devoid of energy. As much as he commanded himself to move, his body would not so readily execute movement. His chest felt uncomfortable; agitated and stuffy. He didn't need to now, but he knew he'd experience a few coughing fits today. His mind was battling a debilitating headache, and every movement felt heavy to do; it was a real chore.

He decided to sleep again. Maybe the next time he wakes up, he will have the energy to get up.

He woke up again, and still felt drained. Again and again, it was the same thing. The successive naps lasted shorter intervals. When would he finally have the energy to get up?

This time, he woke up to the same feeling, but he could feel that some strength would return to him soon. His headache was somewhat alleviated, the pain wasn't so bad, be he didn't necessarily feel all 'there.' There was something in his mind bothering him. His mind felt off. His entire body was still heavy, and he felt incredibly cold. Layering up helped, but he felt weighed down and restricted by the amount of layers required to be adequately warm.

There was no one else present. He looked around as the sunlight peered through the curtain's openings, slightly illuminating a dimly lit room. The chairs at the dinner table hadn't moved; they kept that position for several days now, from the last time someone had come to occupy them.

It was a little lonely, but the solitude also set him at ease. It was better this way.

His stomach had a mild sense of discomfort. _I should probably eat..._ It was a bad cycle, he had a lack of energy from not eating much the past few days, but he had no energy to make food. _Maybe next time._ He didn't feel too hungry anyways. The cortisol suppressed the hunger too much. His body had other priorities. He knew that he should, but he felt it mildly. Eating can wait another time, maybe when he had more vigor.

He walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His skin was ghostly pale, his eyes were worn and a little pink. His hand shook very tangibly as he brought it up to run through his hair. A considerable amount of hair was pulled out.

_That's not good._

Lately, the amount that comes with each comb-through has increased. He dusted the strands into the sink and started turning the sink knobs to wash them down. He heard the water spout out, and looked on listlessly as the water slowly carried a few strands down the sink. After a few seconds, he came to a realization and turned off the sink, "Ah, I should wipe those up and trash them. It's not good to let them go down the drain, what am I doing?"

As he started cleaning the sink, he felt a coughing fit coming, and he coughed up quite a storm. It was a conflicting thing, each cough alleviated his and pain, yet also made his lungs and chest feel more inflamed. His mouth felt wet as saliva dripped down. He covered his mouth with his hand, and it too became covered in saliva.

_**That's not good**..._ He was struggling to breathe, his breaths were labored and inconsistent.

Chills traveled down his spine, and he could feel his hairs standing up as his heart dropped. It wasn't saliva, but blood, and a considerable amount. It rolled slowly down his hands, threatening to drop off.

A sense of desperation came over him; he brought out his wings to gauge his condition, well, he brought out what he could. He saw that his wings were extremely faint; quite small, and barely visible. What a pitiful sight.

He pulled down the collar of his shirt, and formed a ball of light in his other hand. It illuminated a mark on his neck - the insignia of the High Lef. It was almost complete; the center rhombus was forming. Once it reached a solid color, it would be perfect.

The mark grows by eating away at the vitality and life of its subject. Once it completely forms, it glows, and siphons everything else of what it had not taken. This slow method of execution was something he'd seen a few times before. The magic was too advanced, even for Albert; its fatality rate was 100%. The death sentence was absolute.

Albert looked down and sighed. He knew this was coming, but even with prescience, you can never fully prepare for your own mortality.

_When did he mark me? Is there a spy somewhere? I should leave a note... But I think the goal was only to punish me. It's fine, they only wanted to silence me. If they were planning something else, it would've been clear. I don't need to let anyone know._

Never mind the cleaning. He wiped his face and washed his hands. After cleaning off the blood, he went through his clothes, rifling through to pick out something presentable. He changed, and left everything unkempt and messy. There were articles of clothes strewn around, and clothes that had their folding undone as he threw them. This room was now unlike the others, which were tidy and well kept, though now a little dusty. He rushed out of the house.

When he opened the door, he squinted his eyes as the sun shone brightly on him. It was nearing late afternoon, a beautiful warm day, but the draft of the air chilled him. His body temperature was still low, but he decided to bear through it. He closed the door, leaving behind everything but the clothes on his back.

He looked back at the house as he walked away, _no one should be coming, right? _The others had gone on an expedition. The timing could not have been better.

Albert didn't actually know when they would return, it was anyone's guess, but he'd hope that it was not soon.

_Please give me a day or two at least. _

The mark forms slowly, but its manifestation rate varies and is not constant. Once the rhombus begins forming, it may take an hour, perhaps a week, some have even gone on longer than a month. Who knows.

_Just enough time to cover some distance, it's the last thing I'll ask for. **Please. **_He prayed, but he wasn't sure that anyone or anything would listen, and if they did, if they would answer the prayers of someone like him._**  
**_

He wasn't sure where he would go, but he thought a nice, quiet place in solitude would be good. Away from everyone and everything, a place where he wouldn't be found. That seemed fitting.

Albert knew that it was selfish, but he tried to justify it.

He didn't want anyone to be sad seeing him expire. He's caused enough pain already. Did he need to be the cause of more tears and wails?

He didn't feel that he should be mourned. After all the crimes he's committed, he wasn't even sure he should be allowed the relatively quiet death he was endeavoring towards now.

And he didn't want others to see him so weak. The contrast now compared to his younger days, when he was robust and quintessential, it truly was pitiful to see. He wanted to be remembered as the capable leader he once was.

It really was selfish, but he this was the last thing he wanted. It should be fine.

Strangely, now that he was out of the house, he felt a little more invigorated. _Is it because I'm out of the house now, or is it because of the surge?_ No matter how exhausted he was, when he was out to complete a task, his body never failed him, but Albert wasn't sure that this was it. They say that when people are near death, they experience a surge of liveliness or lucidity before their time. _Is this what it is?_ But he wasn't quite up to par to how they describe it, nowhere near that. Or is it that he gathered enough will to hold on enough until his last request is met? _That does happen, doesn't it?_ In any case, he was grateful he was still able to move like so.

He labored on, it was amazing how much far he's gotten in this state, the different cities he's passed. Even if his state was feeble, Albert still had energy to exert. If he was desperate enough, he could scrounge up enough energy to put a fight. What a monster. _Maple World is rather small, isn't it? If I wasn't in this deplorable state, this much would've been child's play._

He hunched over and coughed more blood into his hand. He was huffing; his throat irritated, and his chest burning. _Ughhh, I don't have anything to clean the blood._ He kept his hand in a fist until he could find a place to clean it, at least until the blood crusted up and wouldn't run any longer.

On and on he went, going through the different landscapes as he crossed them. None of them were satisfactory for his cause, but even if he wasn't sure he had the ability to be picky, he wanted to be.

He finally came across a place that seemed acceptable. As he wandered into a forest of tall and verdant trees, he came across a pocket deeper in the forest that was even denser. The sunbeams could only ever wish to reach the forest's floor here. As a result, the plants and surrounding life had evolved bioluminescent traits. The scarcity of light in the forest, and the gleaming organism nearby were reminiscent of the forests back home in Grandis.

Albert remembered running through the forests in the dark night, navigating by using the light of grossular and the stars. There were no stars now, but the nostalgia of the teal, blue-green glow of the life nearby was enough to bring some ease to Albert's heart.

_This seems good. It should be far enough._

He wandered through until he came across a calm stream. He walked towards it and knelt before it and dipped his hand in. The water was cold and made his hand feel like ice, but he was glad it was clean now.

_Let's check again_. He peered at his reflection in the water, and illuminated the mark on his neck again. As he did so, he see eyes looking his direction from the distance in the forest. Something flashy and uncommon would bring attention, but Albert didn't feel a threat by the appearance of such things. They turned away when he looked at them. It seems they knew better.

Albert approximated the rhombus to be near the halfway mark, if not a little more. The color was soon to be solidified.

_... It worked out in the end. Thank you for listening to someone like me._

Albert went and found a comfortable spot to rest in. It was a cozy spot at the base of a tree with wide, large roots. It was chilly, and he felt it ravage him, but he still felt soothed by the area. _How serene._ Serene indeed.

_I miss everyone._ He looked up and sighed. _This should be fine, right?__ After everything, there was no way I could be forgiven. This is my righteous retribution.  
_

He observed the surrounding scenery.

_I remember when we used to go into the forests... That was my favorite thing._ He recalled the smell of the foilage, the feeling of the shade, the atmosphere of it all, how lovely it was. _I want to go back, I miss it._

A memory resurfaced for him, one that was long forgotten. He remembered the Cold Night. They called it that in reference to the colors of the sky. It constantly flashed blue and green as explosions occurred and claimed many lives. Only until the very end did the night become warm, warm with the orange and red of resulting fires born from the crossfire. The ground and the buildings shook many times. It was chaotic.

Albert, having lost many loved ones that day, felt incredibly distressed. Normally he was well behaved and composed, but as a child, how could he bear that? He didn't know what to do, or where to go, but he wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere soothing; nice, safe, dark, and quiet. Anywhere but here.

So he went to the forest, which was a ways from the town. Dense and relatively undisturbed, he went deep within. He didn't stop until he was exhausted. And like now, he made himself cozy, and slept, hoping for everything to be better, or, that everything tonight was a lie.

_Why am I remembering this now? I'm getting sentimental because my body is weak. My mind is getting weak._

He started coughing again. The tried to cover his mouth with his hands, but some of the blood still got on his clothes. He thought to go wash it off again, but he was too tired to do that. Now that he was settled, he could feel his energy leave him once more. Just like before, he thought to go, but his body wouldn't move. _It's alright, I'll go clean it off when I wake up from this nap._

His mind started experiencing another splitting headache, no, more like he was now more aware of the headache.

Albert reflected on his time serving under Darmoor. It was wonderful, at first. _Where did __I go wrong? All I wanted was peace... But all I got was... _He looked at the blood on his hands.

He could remember vividly the look in the eyes of the people as he slayed them, their shrieks and screams, just like those he heard during The Cold Night.

_All I did was contribute the very thing I wanted to end._

He looked down at the blood on his shirt, and his mind went blank.

_There was no way to atone, and there's no way I can atone now. It was a miracle they didn't end me when they caught me. __I can still recall every nuance in Ark's voice as he advocated for me... He's such an idiot. He's such an idiot I could cry._ And cry he did. Small tears started working their way down.

_Even after all I did, they still were so kind to me..._

It was only last week when he remembered being visited by Kyle, Ho Young, Ark, and Kinesis. The dinner table was lively, the jokes and banter, the carefree feeling, it always went by so quickly because of how fun it was.

_Why was I allowed these blessings?_ _I guess the mark is taking back everything that was mistakenly given to me. Will I have my time taken from me? _

They say that those who are killed by the mark have their souls taken to Gerand Damoor, or to the Abyss. Admittance to the afterlife is not permitted to those with the mark, as they take this detour instead. But it's only a rumor, right? Albert wasn't sure. The living fate of the mark is nothing to dismiss, but the true curse was being subjected to an afterlife without rest. That's what they say. Darmoor was never concerned about traitors who deserted his side, because he would reclaim them another time.

_If this is my retribution, then I am willing. I've finished everything that I needed to._

He closed his eyes.

He remembered again, the night after The Cold Night, Ark found him. "Albert, why are you here? Let's go home, everyone is worried for you." The view of Ark's extended hand as Albert looked up, _his hands were so warm. Ah, it was cold in that forest too, just like now._

_It's a little lonely. I wish someone would come find me. _

He felt his consciousness drifting, ebbing from him. He accomplished what he need to do. He was exhausted.

It's time to sleep now.

What registered first for Albert was the sound of the water gently rushing. He was extremely disoriented, not quite lucid yet, just barely on the verge of consciousness.

_Ahh, it's warm? It feels comforting somehow? Is this some sort of heaven?_

He wanted to open his eyes, but he couldn't. Now, even moreso than before, his body would not listen to him. He was totally limp. Everything in his vision was black. _I want to see what's happening_.

_Hm...? Am I not dead?_ He felt someone rubbing his back. _Ah, someone is hugging me right now. I guess I had another prayer answered._ He felt great relief in his heart that he was not alone.

He heard a little bit of sobbing.

A hand ran through his hair, but Albert only felt that once. The crying became more distraught.

"I knew something was up... Why was I so stupid as to believe you?" It was said in a quiet voice, breaking and cracking.

_I guess I made someone cry again.._ He felt immensely guilty.

"Why did you come out here? Why didn't you tell anyone? You couldn't have told me or Ark?"

... _This voice... It is... it is..._

_**Kinesis**._

Albert fought hard to try and become able again. He could dimly register visual stimuli, and he could make slight, feeble movements.

"I don't understand... Why didn't you say anything? Did you think we wouldn't be sad?"

_No it's not that, it's because you would've been sad_, but Albert didn't have the ability to say it.

Albert could feel the shaking from the other person. They were no longer at all composed.

The voice could no longer be gentle, "Why? Were you not happy or something? We could have helped you. Why did you let this happen? ' It's a small illness, I'll get better soon,' you said? Why did you have to lie? What's supposed to happen now? We were supposed to go out and fight against Darmoor together! We were supposed to out on so many dates. We were supposed to go flying and exploring the city at night together. I wanted to argue with you about which furniture to buy and if we were going to get a pet." Kinesis' voice went soft again, "What's happening to all of that? Who am I supposed to banter with and tease now? Why didn't you ask me to stay behind..? You know that I would have..."

"Sorry." Albert uttered out as he was finally able to. He started rubbing Kinesis' back too.

".. You should be sorry." Kinesis embraced Albert harder.

"Oh... I ... forgot that my hand has blood on it. Sorry..."

"You should be sorry."

"Sorry."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"... I'm sorry." Albert would've liked to explain himself, but the fear and the pride swallowed the truth down. He couldn't have, even if he wanted to. He was much too exhausted.

Kinesis wasn't having it with these sorries. As much as he wanted an answer, he wouldn't get one. Besides, they weren't what was important now. He changed the subject and said, "I love you."

"I love you too."

"I love you a lot."

"I love you a lot too."

"I really, really love you."

"I really -" Albert coughed up more blood, some of it got on Kinesis' shirt. "... Really love you too... Sorry about the blood." He was breathing heavily.

"It's alright. Don't apologize." Kinesis choked those words out, fighting his tears to be able to speak coherently.

"Hey, Kinesis?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm a little tired. I'm going to sleep for a bit. Sorry, and thanks for everything. I love you."

"Yeah," Kinesis' voice was cracking again, "Get all the rest you need. I'll.." He kept sniffing and hiccuping, "I'll - I will s-see you when you wake up. I love you too. I love you so much. You don't know how much I love you..."

Albert smiled as he closed his eyes and rested his head on Kinesis' shoulder.

His eyes were closed, but soon after, his eyes registered a flash of light.

That was the last thing he experienced.

**Author's Note:**

> So some things to clarify in case I did a terrible job of explaining it:
> 
> 1) The mark is latent to the eye until the moment it completes. When it completes, it flashes and kills the cursee, from then on, it is visible. You can use a special magic to identify it as it forms, however.
> 
> 2) I didn't think it needed to be explained in the story, but they came back and found Albert missing and searched for him (it was almost two days after he left). No one would think to search Elodin, but the reason why Kinesis was there was because to Ellinia (Magician Association) after coming back from the mission. He received a quest from Anne, who lost another paper airplane in Elodin ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> As I was writing this, I started getting reminded of "The Metamorphosis." The situations/stories are not even remotely similar, but I just had the same kind of feeling evoked writing this as I did reading that book. I'm finding it hard to continue, so I won't proofread it for now. Sorry for any typos.


End file.
